Every Rose Has Its Thorns
by Muse of Angels
Summary: Harry shows Hermione something that makes her re-evaluate her feelings for certain people, including Harry. But will the pair be willing to risk their friendship for the next step in their relationship?
1. Chapter 1: Every Rose Has Its Thorns

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"Bloody hell," Hermione muttered under her breath as she buried her face in her hands. 

She had pushed one of the Gryffindor common room's scarlet ottomans near the blazing fire, where she spread out her nightload of homework. Books were carelessly stacked all around her, and she was currently gripping her nearly-finished Potions essay, titled "The History of Flight Potions," tightly in her hand. All her work for that night was really beginning to wear on her nerves. She had already completed two complicated Arithmancy charts, a detailed summary of Chapter 4 in her Care of Magical Creatures book, a four-foot-long essay for Charms ("The Differences Between a Laying Spell and a Lying Spell"), and an Ancient Runes table. Her other tasks included performing all of her daily duties as a Prefect, and acting as tutor for the younger years. 

"I need a walk," she decided to herself as she carefully laid her Potions homework down on the ottoman and dropped her quill on top. 

Standing up and stretching out the cramp in her leg, she looked around the common room with a sigh. It had completely emptied except for her a half hour ago, when the Creevy brothers decided that two singed eyebrows and a burnt ear apiece were enough for one night, and put away their set of Exploding Snap cards, opting instead for bed. 

Harry and Ron had long since retired to their dormitory after their rigorous Quidditch training practice that evening. It was their fifth year at Hogwarts, and Harry had stepped up to the plate as Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain when Oliver Wood left Hogwarts after Harry, Ron, and Hermione's third year. Ron took Oliver's place as Keeper, and Gryffindor once again had a stellar Quidditch team. Hermione had watched several of their practices, which Harry seemed to be calling more and more often now that Quidditch season was nearing. 

Hermione walked stealthily up to the boys' fifth-year dormitories. "Alohamora," she whispered, pointing her wand to the large iron lock stationed to the right of the heavy wooden door, below the rustic handle. When the lock opened with a satisfying _click_, she tip-toed inside and up to Harry's trunk. Careful to be as quiet as possible, she deftly opened Harry's trunk and rummaged around until she came upon what she was searching for. She pulled out his invisibility cloak, closed the trunk, and was about to walk back out the door when she heard a familiar voice call her name. 

"Hermione? What are you doing? It's late," the voice whispered, stating the obvious. 

"Go back to sleep, Harry, I just needed to borrow your invisibility cloak. I need a walk to refresh my mind," she whispered back over her shoulder as she reached the doorknob and turned it to exit. 

"Wait, I'll come with you," Harry said, and Hermione heard the mattress springs squeak as he stood up from the bed. 

"Harry, it's really late, past midnight. You have Quidditch practice tomorrow night, not to mention the Transfiguration and Potions tests, _and_ the match against Ravenclaw in a week. You need all the sleep you can muster." 

"Look, Herm, I'm awake now. So are you going to let me join you, or do I have to put you under the Imperius Curse?" Harry joked from behind the hangings of his bed, and Hermione could hear his hands rustling around on his bedside table - more than likely searching for his glasses. 

"All right, I'm waiting," said Hermione, a smile playing at her lips. She smoothed out her pleated skirt where it had become wrinkled from sitting. She had tossed her robes casually on her bed after dinner, but had yet to change out of the Muggle clothes she always wore underneath. 

Harry emerged moments later, pulling back the scarlet curtains of his four-poster bed. His hair was an absolute mess (more so than usual, which is saying something), and his pajama shirt was completely unbuttoned. He grabbed a robe, threw it over his shoulder, slid his feet into some shoes, and casually began buttoning up his shirt as he approached Hermione, but not before she caught a glimpse of his chiseled abdomen. Years of Quidditch were finally paying off for him, for he was no longer the gangly, scrawny boy he had arrived as his first year at Hogwarts. His physique was developing quite nicely, and he was at least half a foot taller than the 5'5" Hermione. 

"Shall we?" Harry said formally, offering his arm to her. She rolled her eyes before accepting, and the two walked out the door and back down the stairs to the common room. 

"You really ought to talk to Professor Dumbledore about getting those lock charms upgraded, Harry. If _I_ can break in with a simple Alohamora charm, then ...," but she was cut off by a hand clamping tightly over her mouth. 

"Herm, shut it. Let's just enjoy the midnight stroll, okay?" 

He looked down at her, his vivid green eyes twinkling with laughter. 

Hermione shot him a mischievous look and then proceeded to lick the offending hand that covered her mouth, which caused him to immediately remove it and wipe it on his pajama pants. 

"That'll teach you never to do that again," she said, grinning widely, as he put on his scarlet robe and tied the sash in a loose knot. 

Harry returned the smile before covering both himself and Hermione in the invisibility cloak as they walked out the door that lead into, and out of, the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady was snoozing loudly in her portrait, and didn't even notice that the door she kept hidden was suddenly opened and closed by a mysterious nobody. 

"So what're you doing up this late, anyway?" Harry queried as he and Hermione followed the familiar path out to the grounds. 

"Finishing Snape's essay. I only have a foot more to go, but the bloody thing was really starting to frazzle my brain," she replied, breathing in deeply. She caught the scent of Harry, and relished in it, as she often did. His smell was always very comforting to her - it just felt ... _right_. He smelled of the sun and grass and chocolate and, right now, sleep. 

That smell had been what comforted her more than anything the previous summer, when she received news that Viktor Krum had drowned in a freak boating accident at his home in Romania, just days after she left from her visit with him. 

She had been staying at the Burrow with the Weasleys when she received the letter by owl post. She was standing by the battered couch when she caught the parchment envelope that fell from the talons of a particularly large owl, and after she read the letter she collapsed onto the couch because her legs no longer supported her. After seeing her strange actions and reading the sadness on her face, Harry had walked over, wrangled (with some difficulty) the letter from her hand, read it quickly, and then gathered her up into his arms. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling deeply as she wept uncontrollably. They stayed in that position for a little under an hour, never saying a word, until she pulled away, gave Harry a weak smile, and walked up the nearby staircase to the room she was sharing with Ron's younger sister, Ginny. 

Hermione found the haze in her head clear up a bit as his smell enveloped her once again. She and Harry continued walking until they found their favorite spot - a clearing near the lake that was hidden by tall, voluminous rose bushes. It was the perfect spot to look at the stars, and the multi-colored roses gave off the most wonderful scent year-round. 

"Tell me again about the bushes, Hermione," Harry pleaded in an attempt to get her to tell him what else was bothering her. 

Hermione, never one to turn down the chance to show off her fluency in Hogwarts folklore, began speaking without hesitation. "They were supposedly planted here many years ago as punishment for a sixth-year Slytherin student who had said something cruel to another student. Professor Sprout had recently planted these bushes but was having trouble tending them alone, and that student was given the job of re-enchanting each rose every month. Sprout still jokingly threatens to take away house points from Slytherin should one of her beloved roses die or wilt. But you know all that Harry. You are, after all, the one who found this spot to begin with. Following Sprout like you did when he was doing his rounds, you're lucky you weren't caught." 

"Very lucky. So what else is on your mind?" Harry asked Hermione as they plopped down on the lush green grass with a _thud_. 

"What are you talking about?" she asked, lying on her stomach, face propped up in her hands, looking at the stars. 

"Hermione, we've been friends now for four years. I think I can tell when something is bothering you," Harry replied as he moved into a cross-legged position and leaned back on his elbows. 

"Just random thoughts, really. Nothing important." 

"If it's important to you it's important to me. Try me." 

"Alright, but you asked for it." Hermione took a deep breathe before she began. "Have you ever thought about the human population, Harry? I mean, not just today's population, but the human population that encompasses every person who ever breathed a single breath in this world?" Hermione asked, her eyes glazing over with intense concentration. 

"I'm not quite sure if I follow, 'Mione," Harry said, looking at her. 

"It's just ... I've been thinking about it a lot lately ... it's been bothering me, really ... even though every culture wants to think it's so much different than all the others, they really aren't. Every single person came into this world the same way ... _every single one_. Do you know how many that is? Billions and billions ...," she paused, and drew in a breath," ... but no one ever wants to be the same. Everyone wants to be unique, which is ironic when you think about it, because if everyone wants to be unique, then no one truly is. That just isn't that way the world works, Harry. I just wish people could see things the way I see it ... we're all the same, in a way, no matter what we think. And that's good, because everyone needs someone to relate to. If only ..." she trailed off wistfully, the glazed look leaving her eyes. 

"Hermione, let me show you something," Harry said as he stood and held out both hands to her. She accepted them, he pulled her up, and he began leading her to a particularly secluded area of the rose bushes. 

"Harry, where are we going? If someone finds us here ...," Hermione began before Harry put a finger to his lips - a gesture that told her to be quiet. She obeyed, and they stood silently for several minutes until they heard a faint rustling near the other end of the rose bushes. Hermione held her breath before peeking through a fairly thin section of bush, and almost gasped when she saw who was standing a few yards away from her. 

Snape. 

Still, Harry and Hermione watched in silence as Professor Snape carefully surveyed each rose, occasionally tapping one gently with his wand. Each rose he tapped gained a new luster and dewy sheen, making them more beautiful than before. For a half-hour straight Snape did this, working quickly and methodically. When he was finished, he gave the rosebushes a satisfied glare before sticking his wand deep within the folds of his cloak and stalking off back towards the castle. 

"Harry ...?" Hermione began, a look of awe upon her face. 

"Snape was the student Sprout punished all those years ago. He caught me stargazing here one night, and demanded what I was doing ... you know how Snape is. Well, when I was finished explaining, I asked him what _he_ was doing here, and he said 'Completing an assignment, Potter. Now get back to Gryffindor Tower before I take away as many House Points as there are strands of hair on your head'." Hermione giggled at Harry's perfect imitation of Snape's oily voice. "Of course, Snape didn't think I knew what the true purpose of the rose bushes was. I've caught him here a few times since. None of the flowers have ever died, but a few, on occasion, will lose the magical glow they seem to have, so Snape comes here once a week and gives those that need it a boost, so to speak," Harry concluded. 

"Are you saying Snape still tends to these roses? Even though he doesn't have to?" Hermione asked, not able to believe that someone as vile as Snape would want to tend to any living thing other than himself. 

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Every rose has it thorns, some just have more than others. And that doesn't make the rose any less beautiful." 

With that said, he plucked the loveliest red rose off its bush and twirled it between his fingers. 

"Think about it," he said as he kissed her lightly on her forehead, a common act, and placed the rose in her open hand without bothering to strip off the numerous thorns. He then turned away from her and walked back towards the castle, leaving Hermione with the invisibility cloak, the stars, and his words. 

Hermione sat by herself, gazing at the expanse of the universe that lay before and above her, for another quarter hour after Harry left. She then headed back towards Hogwarts Castle herself, ready to finish her Potions essay, her head filled with ideas for that last foot of parchment, her hands filled with the invisibility cloak and precious rose, and her heart filled with something else completely ... 

  


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A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed the first fic I posted here, "Uncertain Certainty"!  
  
This fic, "Every Rose Has Its Thorns," has actually been in progress for almost a year and has been sitting in the Astronomy Tower at Schnoogle.com, but now that summer has rolled around again I'm sure I can cure my writer's block. Look out for upcoming chapters of ERHIT, and also for possible SS/Hr and D/G fics!   
  



	2. Chapter 2: Potions and Planning

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"Erm, what did you say I was supposed to add?" Ron asked quietly across the table, staring uncertainly at the concoction bubbling angrily in his cauldron. 

"Asphodol, Ron, asphodol. Honestly, where _is_ your mind this afternoon?" Hermione whispered back as she began adding asphodol to her own cauldron of ingredients, which immediately turned a bright yellow. 

"Quidditch, don'tcha know," Ron replied, as if it were obvious. He then added the correct amount of asphodol to his potion, causing it to turn the same sunny color as Hermione's mixture. 

"I don't recall allowing chit-chat during my tests, Weasley. Or were you simply talking to yourself again?" Snape bit out the words as he walked by Ron's cauldron, eying its contents scathingly. "I see you've performed adequately so far. We shall see about the final product. Perhaps we ought to test the Shrinking Potion on your nose. Maybe then it will resemble the organ the human race uses to smell." The teacher turned away, long robes swishing, and walked off to pester poor Neville Longbottom, whose potion was currently Barbie pink. 

Ron blushed deep crimson from the tip of his slightly elongated nose to the roots of his hair. Hermione, however, continued watching Snape thoughtfully as she added the next ingredient, octopus powder, to her potion, which hissed and frothed in response. 

"Look here, everyone, Mister Malfoy has successfully completed his test _first_," Snape said triumphantly, casting a snippy glance at Hermione. "I believe this calls for, oh, let's say ... twenty points to Slytherin for his _excellent_ potion making abilities." 

Malfoy simply glared around the room with an air of superiority, his usual smirk set firmly in place. Ron practically had smoke billowing from his ears, and Harry appeared fairly calm, although his white-knuckled clenched fists and popping neck muscles told a completely different story. 

Hermione raised her hand confidently. 

"What is it _now_, Granger?" Snape asked impatiently. 

"I've finished my potion, sir." 

"What, would you like an award? Five points from Gryffindor for disrupting my test," Snape sneered as he walked back to his desk and marked down Gryffindor's loss of points. 

That did it for Ron. He jumped up from behind his cauldron and bounded towards Snape, but not quickly enough. Malfoy, still bearing his signature smirk, kicked his full cauldron out in front of Ron. Unfortunately for Ron, he had gained too much momentum in the act of running and, instead of pummeling Snape, as he had planned, he wound up head-first in Malfoy's Shrinking Potion. 

Within three seconds Ron had shrunk to the size of a newborn baby. Two more seconds later, he could have passed for a deformed caterpillar. Hermione, sensing that no one (especially Snape) planned on doing anything about the situation until Ron was roughly the size of a pinhead, grabbed the strainer she had used for her potion and rushed over to Malfoy's cauldron. Her back turned to Snape, she quickly scooped up Ron, who coughed and spluttered his thanks. 

"Potter, escort Weasley to the Hospital Wing," Snape said smoothly, as though nothing serious had happened. Harry, looking distraught, walked over to Hermione and plucked Ron out of her strainer, placing the shrunken boy carefully in his palm. Harry then sidled slowly out of the room, keeping his open palm very flat and very still. 

"Class dismissed, and you may collect your cauldrons tomorrow after lunch. I will have graded your sad excuses for potions by then. Homework for next class - I want five feet on how Shrinking Potions can help _better_ society. Granger, see me after," Snape added in a nasty tone as he began preparing his desk for the next class. 

Hermione gathered her remaining ingredients, and then waited for the entire class to empty before she approached Snape's desk. 

"You may inform Mister Weasley, Granger, that he is to return to this classroom after he has been ... _ahem_ ... resized ... and clean up the mess he made on my floors," Snape said without looking up, for he was still reordering the numerous papers about his desk. 

"Yes, sir. Anything else?" Hermione asked as she made a mental note to inform Ron of his horribly unfair punishment. 

"Yes. You are to remove that rose from your hair, it looks ridiculous," spat Snape as he locked his cold eyes with Hermione's. But instead of the usual frightened, or frustrated, or even the occasional '_I'm-not-listening_' look he was so used to receiving from his students, he was met with a ... almost a _questioning_ in her brown eyes. Not questioning like she didn't know how to complete a task, for this was Hermione Granger, but questioning like she was trying to understand what made him, Snape, tick. Her eyes seemed to probe his very soul, and he found this _very_ disconcerting - no one was supposed to be able to break through his masquerade as the evil Lord Voldemort servant, and Granger was dangerously close to doing so. 

"Remove that rose and get out of my sight!" he repeated, his voice slightly raised. 

Hermione turned lightly, removed the rose Harry had given her the night before from the end of her long plait, and was making her way for the exit door when Snape's voice stopped her. 

"And Granger, next time you decide you have the right to pick flowers from the ground's bushes, put them in a vase of water instead. It keeps them healthier than _hair_," he said as he began grading papers, his quill making _scratch scratch_ sounds as its fine tip was dragged across the parchment. 

Hermione stood still in the doorway for a moment, processing his words, and she made her way back to Snape's desk. She gently placed the magicked rose on the edge of his steel desk before she left his classroom and made her way to lunch, a small smile upon her lips. 

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"How's Ron?" Hermione asked as she sat down next to Harry and began serving herself. 

"Furious. Absolutely _seething_. But Madame Pomfrey said he should be fully re-engorged by tonight," Harry replied as he subconsciously pushed the serving platter of salami-and-cheese sandwiches, Hermione's favorite selection for lunch, nearer to his female friend. 

Hermione glanced up at Harry before taking two sandwiches and moving them onto her own plate."You know me too well, Potter," she said with a grin, as she took a grateful bit of her first sandwich. 

Harry smiled back and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say 'No big deal'. "So, are you going to watch us practice again tonight?" 

"Only if you promise to give me another flying lesson afterwards," she responded. Ever since her very first flying lesson in first year, Hermione never could quite catch the hang of flying. Harry had begun helping her the previous summer, allowing her to fly on his precious Firebolt. Not that he didn't trust her - he trusted her completely. With everything. 

"Great! I'll meet you in the common room at ...?" Hermione began, for she did not know when Harry's practice began. 

"Half after 6. Practice is at seven, but that will give us time to find a new rose for you," he smiled, lifting the naked tip of her braid where the rose had been positioned only fifteen minutes before. 

"Perfect. Meet you then. I've got to run and do some last-minute studying for that Transfiguration test!" Hermione said as she bolted down the rest of her sandwiches, grabbed her heavy pack, and made her usual beeline for the library. 

Harry chuckled to himself as he watched his friend retreat from the Great Hall, and he then turned back to his own meal. He found himself looking forward to this particular practice more than usual. 

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"Oh, I can't believe it!" 

At 6:25, Hermione walked down from the girls' dormitories to the Gryffindor common room to find that Ron had returned, fully grown, from the Hospital Wing. 

"What's the matter, Ron?" she asked as she sat on the arm of the chair where Ron was seated, and removed the pillow he had hugged against his face. 

"I just got back from taking McGonagall's test - she somehow managed to catch me just as I was leaving the Hospital Wing. Anyway, instead of turning the raccoon into an rabbit, I turned the bloody thing into a ... a ...," Ron moaned, and hugged the pillow against his face again. 

"A _what_, Ron," Hermione asked in a comforting voice, completely removing the pillow from Ron's grasp. 

"A ... a ... a stuffed rabbit!" Ron moaned, covering his face with his hands, since the pillow was out of reach. 

"So you turned the raccoon into a dead rabbit instead of a live one?" 

"No! I mean a _stuffed_ rabbit - like the kind that kiddies sleep with!" Ron cried, blushing, for the second time that day, from the tip of his nose to the roots of his hair. 

"Oh, oh Ron! That's ... that's awful," Hermione tried to suppress her giggles, and was relieved when Harry finally emerged from the boys' dormitories. 

"Ready, Herm?" he asked, kneeling to tie his shoes. 

"Yep," she replied, "and look what my parents sent me!" She revealed a broomstick that had been leaning against the back of the chair that Ron was currently occupying. "They sent in the request last time we were in Diagon Alley, but the next shipment for these was back-ordered. It's taken this long just for the order to process." 

"Wow! An Aerial Racer! Ten-fold better than the Nimbus series, but still not quite up to par with the Firebolt," Ron said, winking at Harry, before excitedly examining the broom 

"Well, we'd better get moving. Ron, you have to go to Snape's and clean up the mess from this afternoon's class. Sorry," she added apologetically. 

"My day just keeps getting better and better," Ron grumbled as he exited the common room and headed for the dungeons. 

"Poor Ron. Well, shall we go, Miz Granger?" Harry asked in mock-formality. 

"Indeed, Mister Potter," she answered as she accepted the crook of his offered arm. The pair made their way for the Quidditch pitch, Hermione in Muggle clothes and her cloak thrown on for warmth, and Harry in his full Quidditch uniform. 

  


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	3. Chapter 3: The Setting Sun

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bon Jovi or their song "I'll Be There For You." Wish I did, though. Don't sue! 

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Harry and Hermione had just exited the Entrance Hall through the mammoth wooden doors when they heard a familiar voice. 

"You don't mind my having a private word with you?" 

Severus Snape had just walked out of the Great Hall with the forty-ish Professor Sinistra, head of the Astronomy Department, by his side. 

Harry cracked the door open a bit, kneeled, and motioned for Hermione to lean over him and watch the scene unraveling before them. She obliged, and the two of them peeked through the sliver of open door into the Entrance Hall. 

"Of course not, Severus, what's on your mind?" the pretty Professor Sinistra smiled at Snape, displaying her extraordinarily good-natured disposition. 

"Well, as you know, a Hogsmeade weekend is coming up for the older students. Seeing as how it's my turn to chaperone, I was wondering if you would care to accompany me, and save me from utter boredom," Snape said hurriedly, a light pink color barely rising in his sallow cheeks. 

"It sounds lovely, Severus. I would be delighted," Professor Sinistra replied, nodding her head in consent. 

"Lovely," Snape repeated, and actually gave Professor Sinistra a true half-smile, devoid of any sarcasm or malice. "Until then, Sarah," he said softly, tucking a rose into her hand. Hermione recognized it as the rose she had placed on Snape's desk earlier that afternoon. 

Snape then walked off towards the dungeons in a flurry of robes of black hair, leaving Professor Sinistra all alone in the Entrance Hall. 

"Until then indeed. About time he asked me," she said to herself, grinning widely, as she walked off in the general direction of the Astronomy Tower entrance. 

Harry silently closed the door before turning to Hermione, who had a solemn look upon her face. They stood this way for a few moments until Hermione broke the silence and spoke. 

"That was ...," she began, unable to finish her sentence, astonishment filling her eyes. 

"Beautiful?" Harry finished for her quietly, staring at his shoes. 

"I was thinking more along the lines of bizarre, but I suppose it could qualify as beautiful, too." 

Harry looked up at his friend in amazement and confusion. Right on cue, Hermione burst out laughing, and was soon crying with mirth. Harry laughed nervously, unsure of what to make of the situation at hand. Looking for an excuse to change the subject, he checked his new watch, which Dobby the House Elf had given him for his last birthday ("_Sir is needing a new watch after sir competed in the Triwizard Tournament!_" the note had read, which was the truth; Harry's watch had ceased to work properly after the Second Task). 

"C'mon, Herm, we really need to go. We'll have to schedule the flower-picking extravaganza for another day," he joked as he adjusted his Quidditch robes and repositioned the Firebolt on his shoulder. 

"Race you there!" Hermione shouted, and before Harry knew what was happening, Hermione had begun running for all she was worth towards the Quidditch pitch. 

Harry rolled his eyes and grinned. Hermione knew she could never beat Harry in a proper race, even with a brilliant head start, but she initiated these races quite often anyway. He usually beat her without even getting winded, but sometimes he let her win, as well. He decided to let her win this one. 

Hermione was running as fast as her legs, broom, and heavy pack would allow her to, and Harry jogged a few yards behind her, occasionally shouting, "I'm catching up!" or, "I'm getting closer!". These threats were, of course, empty, and when Hermione crossed the "finish line" (the outer rim of the white-chalk-marked Quidditch pitch) she jumped up and down and smiled happily at Harry. 

"Let's see how the great Harry Potter likes _that_," she said, her face flushed from a combination of excitement and the cold. She flashed Harry another grin before she took her customary seat on the bleachers and began her Potions assignment. 

Harry, however, had different plans. He had allowed Hermione to win the race, but he wasn't going to let her get away with that last comment. "Hey, 'Mione, I think you dropped something over here!" he said, as he mounted his Firebolt, hovered a few feet from the ground, and pointed to an area of the green grass below him. 

"I did?" Hermione said uncertainly as she walked over to where Harry was floating. 

In one fatal swoop, Harry aimed the broom at Hermione's legs, knocked her backwards onto him, and flew high into the sky. 

"Harry Potter, you take me down this instant! By God, if you drop me ... ," but the end of her sentence was whipped from her lips as Harry tightened his grip around her slender waist, making her feel warm and safe. 

"Swing your other leg over! You can't ride a broom side-saddle!" Harry shouted over the wind to Hermione, who quickly evened her weight on the broomstick and leaned farther back into Harry. 

Harry brought his mouth very close to Hermione's ear so he wouldn't have to yell, "You said you wanted a flying lesson." 

Hermione shivered at his closeness, and hoped Harry would think it was from the cool wind. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind," she answered back, although she was clearly enjoying herself. 

For the next ten minutes they soared in silence, high above the grounds. The sun was beginning to set, and they witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets in the history of Hogwarts - but, of course, they didn't realize how romantic the setting was. As far as they were concerned, they were just two good friends spending time together, never having to verbalize, and yet communicating the whole time. 

"What song is that?" Hermione asked when Harry began humming softly. 

Harry smiled impishly. "You'd make fun." 

Now it was Hermione's turn to smile at her best friend's embarrassment. "I won't, I promise," she said as she closed her eyes and sank farther back into Harry's chest. "Go on, Harry, sing." 

Harry thought to himself "Why not, it's just Hermione." 

So he sang. 

_ I'll be there for you;  
These five words I swear to you;  
When you breathe, I want to be the air for you;  
I'll be there for you.  
  
I'd live and I'd die for you;  
Steal the sun from the sky for you;  
Words can't say what love can do;  
I'll be there for you.  
_

"Shoot, it looks like the rest of the team is there already," Harry said suddenly, abruptly finishing his solo and awakening Hermione from her light daze. He flew top-speed back to the Quidditch pitch and landed gracefully in front of the rest of the Gryffindor House team. 

"Where've ya been, Harry?" George Weasley asked, winking secretively at his team captain as Hermione dismounted Harry's Firebolt and returned to her spot on the bleachers. 

"We got here early, and I thought I'd give Hermione a quick flying lesson before practice," Harry replied truthfully. 

"Is flying _all_ you were teaching her?" Fred Weasley asked slyly as he and George mounted their Cleansweep Fives and circled the pitch a few times. 

"How are the twins trying to twist the situation this time?" Harry wondered aloud. 

"They're not trying to twist it, Harry. They were using their eyes. Oh, by the way, Ron can't make it to practice tonight. I ran into him in one of the corridors on my way down here. He said Snape claimed he hadn't done a good job of cleaning up the mess he made in Potions, so he decided to send Ron on 'a number of pointless errands to make up for his shoddy performance'," Alicia Spinnet stated as she began pulling her long blonde hair into a ponytail, which was a very difficult task, as her hair reached well beyond her waist. 

"Oh, _honestly_, Harry! You come flying onto the Quidditch pitch with a _girl_ snuggled up against you after watching one of the most gorgeous sunsets _ever_, and you wonder why Gred and Forge think something's up?" Katie Bell, sensing Harry's confusion on one of the two topics mentioned by Alicia, asked matter-of-factly as she applied lip balm to protect her chapped lips from the growing cold. She then mounted her broom and kicked off the ground. 

"But it's _Hermione_. She's my _friend_," Harry whined, finally picking up on what Fred and George were going on about. 

"I swear, Harry, sometimes you're as thick as Fred," said Angelina Johnson, Fred's long-time girlfriend, as she finished pulling her short black hair into two pigtails. She and Alicia, her best friend, then set off simultaneously for the goal posts, Quaffle in hand, to practice a little one-on-one. 

Harry sneaked a glance at Hermione, sitting alone on the bleachers. Her plait was blowing gaily in the wind, and wispy curls were coming out from the elastic she had used to secure the hair style, framing her pixie-ish face. Her head was bent close to the Potions book, but Harry could still see the glimmer her deep brown eyes held ... 

"Wait, what am I doing!?" Harry mentally kicked himself, and attempted to erase the thought from his mind. "This is _Hermione_ I'm thinking about! _Hermione_! Bookworm, smarty-pants, know-it-all, incredibly pretty ... where the _hell_ did that come from!?" 

Harry physically shook his head, as if trying to loosen the thought that now played on his mind and make it fall out. He quickly mounted his broom and, in a tremendous burst of speed, caught up to the rest of his teammates, determined to forget everything that had crossed his mind just moments before. 

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"Crimany, Fred! Why didja have to go and do that?" Angelina shouted at her boyfriend after he had thrown a handful of gloppy mud at her uniform. 

"Crimany, Angel! Like it isn't muddy already!" Fred imitated her haughty voice perfectly, but because of the addition of his pet name for her, it was obvious that Fred was only teasing. 

"Oooooooooo!" was all Angelina could think to yell before she rammed her boyfriend in the gut like a bull, and he fell backward into a particularly dirty mud puddle. Fred immediately grabbed Angelina by the hand and pulled her down with him. They wrestled loudly until they were so completely covered in mud you could no longer tell the true color of their uniforms. 

The rest of the present Gryffindor House team finally touched down as well after a freakishly strenuous practice in the pouring rain. Alicia was wringing out her soaked hair, and George was trying to convince Katie that, with her hair in its current state, she looked exactly like one of his older male cousins. Katie then took to pounding on George, and soon the two had joined in on the wrestling match between Angelina and Fred. Alicia shook her head at the sight of her four best friends rolling in mud puddles before she grabbed her broom and made her way back to Gryffindor Tower. 

Harry also watched the scene in front of him, torn between amusement and annoyance. After all, the Slytherin team would soon be arriving for their practice time, and if they were to see the Gryffindor team in this state, Snape would surely take off fifty points apiece for some idiotic reason. 

_ But Snape really isn't as bad as you thought, remember? _

A voice from deep within the recesses of Harry's mind had awakened and interrupted his train of thought. 

"Oh, shut it, you. For the purpose of this conversation with myself, Snape is still a heartless git," Harry muttered vehemently as he wiped specks of mud from his filthy glasses. 

"All right everyone, get up. Slytherin will be arriving soon, and we don't need them cracking jokes on our team just because they have matching broomsticks," Harry ordered his brawling teammates. They did as he said, although they looked slightly disgruntled as they stood - or at least Harry _thought_ it was disgruntlement. They resembled Mud People so much it was difficult to make out their expressions. 

The four muddied players began tramping back to Gryffindor Tower, careful to splash as much mud as possible on the Slytherin players as they passed their rivals. 

Harry smiled faintly at the sight of Malfoy spluttering on a wad of mud that had been discreetly aimed at his smirking mouth by none other than Angelina, who simply began whistling and walked off when Malfoy turned on her, fuming. 

Remembering Hermione, Harry turned and walked back across the pitch to the bleachers where Hermione was still seated. She had long since finished her Potions assignment and put it back in her waterproof pack (which had been magicked on, of course), and was, although soaking wet and visibly shivering, currently asleep. Harry, against his better judgment, took a moment to notice the gentle contours of her face, and the shadow that her thick eyelashes made upon her soft cheeks ... 

"Potter! Get that Mudblood off our field before we curse you two into next week!" Malfoy's familiar voice was, as usual, edged with hatred. 

"Malfoy! Sod off before I hex you into oblivion!" Harry shouted back over his shoulder, his voice equally as hateful. Harry then lightly shook Hermione's shoulder to wake her up. She stirred a little before opening one eye and blinking at the friend whose face hovered above hers. 

"You fell asleep. It's late. After nine o'clock. We need to get going, or McGonagall will have our heads." 

Hermione simply nodded in understanding before she collected her unused broomstick and backpack. 

"You know," Harry said, grinning, "you could have left if you needed a proper nap." 

Hermione laughed. "I didn't _mean_ to fall asleep. The rain was giving off such a soothing sound, and I guess I just dozed off. I suppose we ought to reschedule my flying lesson as well as the flower-picking?" she asked. 

"I suppose so. Tomorrow's Friday, how does Saturday sound? We can do it after the Hogsmeade trip," he said as the pair began walking back to the castle. Hermione nodded before she gave a huge shudder. 

"Should you go to the Hospital Wing?" Harry asked worridly. 

"No, no, all I need is a good night's sleep. I certainly don't want to have another visit with Madame Pomfrey in the next few months. I've had my fair share of Pepper-Up Potion already," she made a face, recalling the instance only weeks prior in which she had been confined to the Hospital Wing for a fortnight because of a dreadful cold. 

"Well, at least take my cloak. The one you're wearing does nothing in this rain," Harry said as he unbuttoned his cloak and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. Although soaked and muddy on the outside, Hermione found its insides to be warm and inviting. Harry rubbed his hands up and down her arms in an effort to put some warmth in her petite body. 

"That's much better, thanks," Hermione said, giving Harry a shy smile. The pair then made their way in silence back to the Gryffindor Tower. 

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Later that night, safe in the sanctuary of her dormitory and pajamas, hidden by the curtains surrounding her four-poster bed, Hermione fell asleep under a certain Gryffindor Quidditch cloak, now dry and mud-free, that smelled of sun, grass, and chocolate. 

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A/N: Keep reviewing! :-D   
  



	4. Chapter 4: Midnight Stroll

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Special thanks to all those who reviewed the first few days this fic was posted here. I like reviews!!!  
  
Ms. Padfoot: My first reviewer for this fic! See, more than one chapter :-) Did you like it better as a stand-alone?  
  
BabyJ5: Thanks! I suppose I should also say in the disclaimer that I don't own the Poison song "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," but maybe the extra "s" I put in the title makes it invalid, lol.  
  
MissLexiRe: Here's Chapter 4 for you. Hope you enjoy!  
  
usha88: Thanks, I like for my titles to somehow show up in the story.  
  
Dragondemon: I read your fic, you should continue and develop your plot some more! I'll keep an eye out for the next installment!  
  
fanficaholic1377: Ooooh, _three_ posts! I like you, *MWAH*, lol. Here's the fourth chapter, I hope you enjoy it! If you like my writing and don't mind a weird switch of 'ships, check out my slightly angsty Hr/George fic titled, "Uncertain Certainty." I'm currently working on a sequel to it that's a little more romantic and light-hearted. Don't worry, it's not my normal 'ship, it just kinda sailed one night. I'm still a big old H/Hr at heart!  
  


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Friday night finally arrived, an evening when the Gryffindors always stayed up well after hours in the common room, discussing their plans for the next day. Today's conversation mainly concerned, obviously, the next day's trip to Hogsmeade, and the air was filled with excitement. 

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and a few other Gryffindors had, at long last, finished an hour-long pillow fight. Harry was now seated comfortably in one of the immense scarlet chairs. Hermione was perched easily atop the arm of the chair, leaning a bit against Harry's shoulder, as she absently ran her slender fingers through his mess of black hair while staring off into space. 

"Ron, just go ask her already," Harry said in an exasperated voice as his best friend continued to make goo-goo eyes at a fellow Gryffindor fifth year. 

"Like I have a chance," Ron said wistfully as he gazed longingly at the object of his affection. 

"For heaven's sake, Ron, what's the worst that could happen?" Hermione demanded. 

"She could turn me down." 

"Look, Ron, if you don't go ask her this minute I'm going to sock you right in the nose. Got it?" Harry said in a very threatening tone as he began cracking his knuckles menacingly. 

Ron paled at the thought of Harry walloping him one, especially after seeing the power Harry packed when he fought with Malfoy only last month, so he obediently stood and walked nervously over to the fireplace. 

"Parvati? Could I have a word with Lavender ... alone?" he stuttered as the color returned to his freckled cheeks full-force. 

"Sure, Ron. Meet you upstairs, Lav," Parvati said as she gave her best friend a sly smile and then retreated to the staircase that lead to the girls' dormitories. 

Ron swallowed and glanced around the quickly emptying common room. "That Herbology class today was a killer, eh?" he said in an attempt to strike up a conversation. 

Lavender simply nodded and continued watching him curiously. 

"Don't think I'll ever get the dirt out from under my nails," he rambled as he glanced down at his nails and began examining them as though he'd never seen them before. 

"Ron Weasley." Ron looked up at Lavender as she slipped her hands into his. "Are you going to ask me to Hogsmeade tomorrow or not?" 

Ron gave Lavender his biggest lopsided grin. "Only if you want me to." 

Lavender smiled sweetly back. "Meet me here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together before we go." 

"Alright," was all Ron could muster in response. He was still savoring the feeling of her hands in his when Lavender leaned in and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "See you in the morning," she said before she walked off and ascended the staircase, casting Ron a glance over her shoulder as she disappeared around the corner. 

Ron turned slowly to face Harry and Hermione. His eyes were wide, his face was flushed, and he wore an expression goofier than the one that had been plastered across his face the day he asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball. 

"Go to bed, you lady killer," Hermione said, biting back laughter, as she swatted at him. 

"Yeah, we're obviously not good enough for you anymore," Harry said in a faux-haughty voice. 

Ron's smile only grew wider; without a word, he turned around again and sauntered up the staircase. 

"Like she would have turned him down. She's only been writing his name in little hearts all over her assignments for the last three weeks," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes at Ron's unnecessary worries. 

"And whose name have you been writing on _your_ assignments?" Harry asked mischievously. 

"Why mine, of course," Hermione replied innocently as she shot Harry a smile. "I think I'd better go to bed, it's getting late. See you in the morning." 

Harry reached out and grabbed Hermione's wrist before she could walk away. "Take a late-night stroll with me." 

"But Harry, it's eleven o'clock ..." 

"That's why it's late-night. Please?" he asked, his eyes pleading. He wasn't sure why wanted her to stay, but he knew that he didn't want her to leave him tonight, not just yet. 

Hermione sighed heavily. "Okay, if you really want me to." 

Now it was Harry's turn to smile. "Good. Meet me back here in five minutes?" 

Hermione nodded and the two parted ways. 

A few flights of stairs later, Hermione entered into her dormitory. Parvati and Lavender were sprawled out on Parvati's bed, wearing silk pajamas and gossiping. 

"Going out again?" Parvati asked incredulously as Hermione gathered up Harry's Quidditch cloak and headed back in the general direction of the door. 

"Yes, actually, I am," Hermione responded. "I should be back in an hour or so, so leave the door unlocked, will you? I practically woke up the entire castle last week trying to break into my own room." 

"Of course," Parvati said nonchalantly before lowering her voice and talking to Lavender once more. 

Hermione shook her head as she closed the door to her room and headed back down the stairs. It wasn't that she held anything personal against either Parvati or Lavender, but she and they had never really clicked, and she wasn't sure how she'd so far managed to survive sharing living quarters with them for four and a half years. 

"Ready?" Harry asked as he and Hermione rounded the corners of their opposite staircases simultaneously. 

"Yes. I suppose you'll be wanting this back," she said as she walked nearer to him and held out his cloak. 

Harry waved it away. "Keep it. I have spares. Besides, I think it'll be another cold night tonight, you may need it yet." 

Hermione smiled gratefully as she slung the heavy cloak over her shoulder, and accepted the invisibility cloak that Harry draped over them both. "So what are your plans for this evening?" 

"Just a walk down to the lake with my best friend. How does that sound?" Harry asked as the pair began following the familiar route to the lake. 

"Delightful. The skies are clear tonight, we should have a perfect view of the stars." 

"Perfect ... _owwww_," Harry said a bit too loudly as he stubbed his toe on a protruding stone. A few seconds later, his ears perked and he stopped walking. He held out his arm to stop Hermione from walking out from under the invisibility cloak, and she looked at him questioningly. "Do you hear something?" he whispered. She listened carefully and her eyes grew bigger as she realized who it was. 

"Shit. Snape _and_ Filch," Harry muttered. 

"Harry, _language_," Hermione reprimanded under her breath as she and Harry shuffled into an empty classroom as quietly as possible. 

"Who's there?" Snape's voice was as soft as lace, and as deadly as arsenic. "I know you're in here," he continued as he pushed the classroom door open wider and walked in, Filch following close at his heels. Mrs. Norris soon waddled in as well, her squinted yellow eyes searching for what her nose sensed but her eyes couldn't see. Mrs. Norris followed Harry and Hermione's scents until she had them backed into a corner. Hermione's eyes were wide with fear; if she were caught under these circumstances, she would certainly be relieved of all prefect duties, not to mention the havoc Snape would probably wreak on Gryffindor's House Points. Harry could sense her fright and pulled her tightly to him, careful not to disturb the invisibility cloak too much. 

"Who do you smell, Mrs. Norris?" Filch asked sinisterly. Mrs. Norris continued sniffing for the two Gryffindor fifth years, and was growing fretfully close. Finally, when she was less than three inches away from Hermione's slippered feet, Harry bent down, put one arm under Hermione's knees and the other across her back, and picked her up off the ground. Hermione's arms immediately went around Harry's neck, and both teens held their breath and hoped the cat wouldn't come any closer. 

"No one's here, my pet. What's say we go back to the room and warm up a nice bowl of milk for you, eh?" Filch suggested after a moment to Mrs. Norris, who immediately ran over to her owner and began purring. "Care to join me for a cuppa, Severus?" Filch offered in a rare act of hospitality. Snape gave the classroom one last sneering glance before he exited the room and closed the heavy door behind him. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, and his warm breath tickled Hermione's neck as he spoke. "That was close. Very close." 

Hermione slid down out of Harry's grasp, but his arms still remained loose around her waist. She shivered at his closeness and, once again, hoped he would think it was from the temperature of the dank classroom. Harry, of course, felt her shiver, and carefully wrapped his Quidditch cloak around her for the second time in two days. "You'll need this for when we're down by the lake," he said softly. Hermione nodded, avoiding his eyes, and Harry adjusted the invisibility cloak around the two of them before they ducked out of the classroom. 

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Hermione couldn't help but notice that when the moon reflected onto the lake, it made the placid water and surrounding trees seem as though they were part of another world. She knelt down and carefully ran a finger across the top of the water, and watched in child-like amazement as the ripples moved further and further away. Ripples had always fascinated her, knowing that such a small movement, such a small change, could create such an impact. 

Although the lake was indeed very scenic, Harry was focused on the beautiful girl who made the view complete. He couldn't help but notice how the starlight playing on Hermione's features made her look like a glowing goddess, or how the wind that was blowing kept threatening to completely remove the loosely-tied ribbon that kept her wild hair tamed tonight. 

_ "This is really insane,"_ Harry thought to himself._ "She's my best friend, I can't be having these thoughts about her!"_ As if on cue, Hermione looked at Harry and gave him a slight smile before standing and wiping her wet hand on Harry's cloak to dry it. _"But how do I stop?"_ Harry had time to ask himself before Hermione sat down beside him. 

"It's breathtaking," she said, looking up at the stars. 

"Yes. Yes it is," Harry agreed quietly as he watched the stars reflected in Hermione's dark brown eyes. 

The two sat in silence for a little while longer. 

"You know, when I was little, I used to look out my window at night and try to count the stars when I couldn't sleep," Hermione said, breaking the comfortable silence. "It was a completely absurd idea, of course, but it helped me sleep nonetheless. I was the girl who counted stars instead of sheep," she went on, a smile playing at her lips. 

"I never had trouble sleeping. It was my only escape from the Dursleys," Harry said, failing to keep the scornful bite out of his voice. 

Hermione turned her head to look Harry in the face, her eyes filled with sympathy. Harry held her gaze, his eyes asking for silent confirmation from hers. Cautiously, Hermione lifted one hand and caressed one of Harry's windburned cheeks with her fingertips. When skin met skin, Harry closed his eyes and let out an involuntary sigh. He reached over and took her other hand in his as she leaned her head against his shoulder and continued watching the night sky. Twenty minutes later, comforted by the warmth of Harry and the soft whistle of the blowing wind, an exhausted Hermione Granger fell asleep in Harry Potter's arms. 

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Harry ran into no troublesome figures on his way back to Gryffindor Tower, which was good, because he was still carrying a slumbering Hermione and would have had trouble explaining their circumstances to any passersby. 

Once in the common room, Harry realized he had a slight dilemma. There was no way he was going to deposit Hermione in her own dormitory; there would be too many questions that he didn't particularly feel like answering. So he did the next best thing. He gently laid Hermione down on one of the large couches near the fireplace before poking the dying embers until there was a warm blaze crackling merrily. Then he grabbed his invisibility cloak and shot up to his dorm, where he deftly hid the invisibility cloak and changed into his pajamas without waking any of his roommates. Moments later, he was back downstairs in the common room again, adjusting the cloak around Hermione so she wouldn't become cold in the middle of the cool winter's night. 

"Goodnight, 'Mione," he whispered to her as he leaned over and tenderly brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. With that, he curled up in the chair closest to her and closed his eyes. 

Hermione eyes fluttered open and she glanced at Harry for an instant before smiling knowingly to herself and going back to sleep. 

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A/N: Chapter Four is complete! Aren't you proud? Will Harry and Hermione continue delving into the possible romantic aspects of their relationship? Stay tuned and find out!   
  



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